


OMG Jack Gets Jealous

by Hayleythewriter



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, I promise, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6244789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayleythewriter/pseuds/Hayleythewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bittle has a boyfriend and Jack has a problem with it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Outting

“Bro, it’s the biggest night of the entire year!” Ransom cried, “It matters more than finals- it’s more important than playoffs-”

  
“No it’s not,” Jack quickly interjected from the couch, without looking up from his book.

  
“-and everyone has to bring a date! Right, Lardo?” he concluded, his eyes still glued to Bitty who was standing next to Lardo and holding a plate of cookies.

  
“Well, it’s a tradition or whatever,” she said calmly, “And tickets are more expensive if you don’t split the price with someone.” She grabbed a treat and then plopped onto the couch in-between Shitty and Jack.

  
“Then I just won’t go,” Bitty shrugged, which made Ransom gasp and Holster stand up.

  
“Bro!” Holster clutched Ransom’s arm, “The Samwell Annual Spring Banquet-“

  
“The SASB, the Sass-buh!” Ransom excitedly whisper-yelled.

  
Holster continued, “Is the one night where all of the Sororities and Frats meet at the downtown ballroom and, and, party hard! No one in the Haus has skipped out for like 100 years.”

  
“I didn’t go last year,” Jack remarked, flipping a page.

  
Ransom rolled his eyes, “You were sick, and boring. Let’s focus on Bittle.”

  
“Y’all are too sweet,” Bitty gingerly put the cookies on the coffee table and began shuffling back to the kitchen, “But I don’t know if this banquet thing is the best idea. I’ve never even been on a date.”

  
“Are you fucking serious?” Shitty suddenly stood up and joined Ransom and Holster, who wore equal expressions of shock and upset. “Bitty, how is that even possible? You’re so ‘swawesome- and if you’re half as good in bed as you are in the kitchen, then Fuck, I would date you right now.”

  
Bitty gave a terse smile to his friends, “Thanks. But really, it’s perfectly alright-“

  
“There’s never been a girl good enough for him!” Ransom snapped out of his surprise and announced the reason he had finally realized for perfect Bitty’s single status, “Of course!”

  
“Of course!” Holster agreed, throwing his head back, “Dude, high school girls can’t appreciate the magic of Bitty.”

  
“And what kind of Bros are we?!” Ransom cried, “We haven’t even set him up on a college blind date yet! He’s already a sophomore!”

  
“We need to find the perfect woman. How soon should we start the interview process?”

  
“Interview?!” Bitty exclaimed the same moment Shitty raised an eye brow and questioned, “Process?”

  
“Tonight, bro. Time is of the essence,” Ransom began stroking his chin, “Should we start with the swim girls, or the soccer girls?” In unison Ransom and Holster looked at each other, did finger guns, and said, “tenis girls.”

  
“Stop!” Bitty shouted, causing all heads to turn to him. “. . . Just- I guess I should- could you just pause for a second while I grab my index cards?”

  
“Bittle,” Shitty’s eyes filled with sympathy and he looked ready to stand from the couch.

  
“It’s o-okay,” Bitty widened his stance and took a deep breath, knowing that his pre-written monologue couldn’t help him now that his hands were shaking. “Um. . . you guys are the most important people in my life. Seriously. And I. . .appreciate your concern, I swear, but I should probably tell you that… I’m gay.”  
He couldn’t help it, his eyes flicked to gauge Jack’s expression. His book was closed, but his face was completely blank. He was so busy staring at Jack, he didn’t see Ransom and Holster’s giant bear hug coming.

  
“Bitty!” Holster’s grip around his torso was crushing, “Bro! Thank you for telling us!”

  
“I’m so happy for you, dude! Are you coming out now?” Ransom ruffled his hair, and Bitty felt his tension melt. He couldn’t stop smiling.

  
“Well, y’all are basically the first people I’ve told.” Bitty confessed, glance at Shitty in silent recognition. “But I think I’m okay with the school knowing. Just not my family quite yet.”

  
Ransom nodded, “I totally respect your choice.”

  
“I can’t believe we were going to set you up with a girl,” Holster finally let go of the hug, and let himself chuckle.

  
“Yeah, that was really heteronormative of you to assume,” Lardo said, with her own little grin. “Bitty, I love you so fucking much. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

  
“Thanks,” He said, grinning. “I’m sorry this ruins the big banquet-“

  
Shitty practically cackled, “Oh, you wish.”

  
Bitty was confused until Ransom and Holster huddled together and started their scheme.

  
“Okay, back to the drawing board, new plan, operation: get Bittle a BF.” Ransom started.

  
“I fucking got it bro,” a light bulb practically appeared above Holster’s head, “There’s a Gay Straight Alliance meeting at lunch tomorrow. We can go scope out our options!”

  
“I love it. What do you think about us making a check list of qualities so we can find the perfect guy?”

  
Holster held up his phone, “I already have a Google doc. I just shared it with you.”

  
“Y’all can’t be serious!” Bittle covered his mortifyingly red face with his hands, while Lardo and Shitty laughed their asses off. Jack started laughing, just a bit off.

  
“I know you think we’re crazy,” Holster put an arm around Bitty, “But it’s only because we want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

  
Bittle hadn’t thought it was possible, but this entire conversation had made his heart grow twice in size. His best friends were so amazing, and he was beyond blessed to be this supported and loved. He pulled Holster and Ransom in for another hug, which of course made Lardo and Shitty hop up and join them. He’d been dreading this for so long, but now he couldn’t even remember why he was worried.

  
“Hey, Jack, you remember how to breathe?” Shitty glanced over at their captain, who was still sitting on the couch, frozen.

  
Jack stood up. “Of course. This is just. . .some big news.”

  
Their group hug opened up, and now Bittle could see Jack clearly. He was extremely tense, and the word ‘uncomfortable’ was practically written across his face. Just like that, Bitty felt a sickening twist in his stomach.

  
“Some big fantastic news,” said Lardo, sharing a strange glance with Shitty.

  
Jack nodded, his voice cold, “Oh, yeah. I guess, congrats, Bittle. Just don’t let it change anything on the ice.”

  
Now Bitty knew that his heart had gotten bigger, because he’d never felt it break like this. His mouth slightly parted, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He could only stare, as Jack Zimmerman turned around and just about took the stairs two at a time.

  
There was total silence until the sound of Jack’s door slumming shut cut through the air. And then suddenly, everyone was talking at once.

  
Lardo was pissed, “What the fuck? Literally, what the fuck? What the literal fuck-”

  
Ransom was stunned, “Why would Jack say that? How could he be such a-“

  
Holster was upset, “Bittle don’t listen to him! You’re still the same you you’ve always been-“

  
Shitty was muttering more to himself, “Jack is such a fucking idiot-“

  
Bittle couldn’t listen to this anymore. He needed to be alone right now, so he could replay this entire conversation and see where it all went terribly wrong.  
“I’m going to go make a celebratory pie,” He announced, ignoring all of their immediately sympathetic looks. He didn’t want sympathy. “Thanks again, guys. Today was. . . weird. But you made it good.”

  
Bitty couldn’t escape without another group hug, albeit a little less enthusiastic, but once he was finally into the kitchen, he started shuffling through cabinet, pulling out the ingredients he knew by heart.

  
So maybe Jack hated him now. Maybe Jack thought that hockey players couldn’t be gay. Or maybe, Bittle being gay was the last piece of the puzzle, and Jack connected it with a year of glances, smiles, and starry eyes. Maybe Jack knew about his crush. Maybe Jack was never going to speak to him again.  
Bittle was spreading the filling when he saw the first tear drip off his cheek and onto the counter.


	2. The Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Jack manage to get his head out of his ass and utter the two magic words, "I'm Sorry"??? The world may never know.

Jack entered his room and began running his hands through his hair. What the hell was that?! He felt sick. He’d bolted from the room before getting a real good look at Bittle’s face, but he had an idea of how he must be feeling. God.

  
Jack knew Bittle wouldn’t change. Obviously. His sexuality had nothing to do with his sense of humor, or kind heart, or phenomenal baking skills. So then why did those stupid words come out of his stupid mouth?!

  
Wait, he was jealous. That was it. Jack had known that he was gay since middle school, but he’d honestly rather be trapped in a real closet then come out of a metaphorical one. Bittle had the courage to tell everyone the truth about himself, and Jack was too afraid.

  
He collapsed on his bed and considered listening to music, but last weekend Bittle downloaded a huge playlist onto his phone, and he didn’t want to think about Bittle right now. After five minutes, he realized that Bittle was apparently all he could think about regardless, so he grabbed his headphones and i-phone and pressed play on the first song, by someone named Adele. As the first chord filled his ears, there was rapid knocking on his bedroom door. Jack paused the song and dragged himself up to answer. It was Shitty.

  
“You’re such a fucking idiot.” Shitty pushed past Jack and sat criss cross apple sauce on his bed.

  
Jack hung his head and closed the door, “I know.”

  
“Yeah, you better. So are you going to apologize with baking supplies or straight up cash?”

  
“I’ll talk to him.”

  
Shitty sat up straighter, “Jack Zimmerman. Talking. About emotions-“

  
“There’s no emotions,” Jack started pacing, “What I said was rude and out of line. As his captain, nothing should concern me except his hockey game-“

  
“Don’t apologize as his captain,” Shitty folded his arms, “apologize as his friend.”

  
Jack stood still. “Yeah. Yes. I’ll do that.”

  
Shitty rolled his eyes and laid back. “Just make sure it’s sincere and meaningful. And I’d probably thrown in a spatula if I were you.”  
_ _ _ _  
Jack stayed holed up in his room for the rest of the night, doing homework, listening to music, and trying to not think about Bittle.

  
The next morning when he heard Beyonce blaring from the bathroom, he only grumbled for a moment before quickly changing and heading to the gym. It was Monday morning, which meant Bittle had a 9:00 am class, and if Jack happened to go on the treadmill a little longer so he could get back to the house at 9:15, he really couldn’t be blamed. Then of course he had his own classes to attended, and when hockey practice began that afternoon, he couldn’t justify taking time away from the ice to have a one on one talk with Bittle. It was just have to wait.

  
And wait. And wait.

  
Until it was Friday night, and Jack heard a knocking on his door that was too polite to be Shitty. It almost radiated Southern manners.

  
“Bittle,” Jack said as he swung open his door. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  
Bitty gave a toothless smile, “Really. ‘Cause it seemed like you’ve been avoiding me.”

  
Jack, surprise, surprise, didn’t know what to say. Bittle continued on.

  
“Look, I’m sorry if . . . if I make you uncomfortable. And sure, you didn’t know I was gay when I joined the team, but to be fair, you didn’t ask so I wasn’t lying or-“

  
“Bittle,” Jack couldn’t tell if he was feeling more amused or disgusted, “You should not be apologizing to me right now. I should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I’m sorry. Who you love doesn’t define, or change you, and if someone ever gives you trouble for it, I’ll personally beat them up. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

  
Bittle studied his face with wide, brown eyes. Jack wouldn’t be able to breathe until his apology was accepted.

  
In a split second, Bittle smiled, and Jack felt himself relaxing into it.

  
“Thank you,” said Bittle. “I’m glad you’re my coach.”

  
“I’m glad you’re my friend.” Said Jack, letting himself smile. The two stood in his doorway, staring, and smiling, until suddenly,

  
“Bitty! 5 seconds and we’re starting without you!” Lardo’s clear voice cut through the air from downstairs, where the first kegstand of the night was about to begin.

  
“Oh! I better go,” Bittle glanced towards the stairway, and Jack thought about how close they were and how easy it would be to just lean forward and-  
“You wanna come?” Bittle asked him, with a slight smile that said he wasn’t really expecting him to. His lips were within reach.

  
After a brief pause, Jack remember how to speak, “No, I better stay in for the night. Next time.”

  
“Next time,” Bittle echoed, starting towards the party. “You better be telling the truth Jack Zimmerman.”

  
“I always am,” Jack lied.


	3. Meet the Zimmerman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team- hockey- right, Jack thought to himself. “Right. You caught me, Bittle.” 
> 
> AKA: Jack meets Bittle's future BF?????!!!!!????

The Samwell Annual Spring Banquet was quickly approaching, and Bittle couldn’t have been more stressed. Then, Ransom called him after a particularly hard stats test, and Bitty realized that wasn’t true. He could always be more stressed.  


“Bits! There’s an emergency. Meet me in the library right now!”  


Bittle’s heart dropped, “What?! Ransom, what’s-“  


“Just hurry, bro!”  


“Wait-!”  


Ransom hung up. Bitty brought his phone away from his ear and fought the rising panic in his stomach. Knowing Ransom this could be anything from a broken leg to Holster ate the last cookie in the Haus. But why the library? As Bitty slung his backpack over his shoulder, he tried to remember Ransom ever stepping foot into any library ever. Nothing came to mind. Maybe the emergency was he couldn’t find the biography section.  


Bitty took the library steps two at a time, just in case. When he entered through the glass doors, he was hit by a wave of air conditioning. Directly to his right was the designated study area, with a splattering of dark wooden tables, bean bag chairs, and strings of fairy lights. Sitting at of the tables was Ransom, smiling at a boy with a slight build, gorgeous curly brown hair, and a sprinkle of freckles. He wore a black button up and jeans, which seemed to suit him perfectly. The moment Ransom noticed Bittle, he jumped up and waved wildly grinning. Bitty walked over to them, just to make Ransom calm down.  


“Hey Bitty! This is Derek Stuart.” Ransom grabbed his (unopened) text book and shoved his phone into his back pocket.  


“Hi, I’m Eric Bittle,” Bitty offered a hand, which Derek shook happily. Bitty’s eyes cut to Ransom. “What’s the big emergency?”  


Ransom smiled sheepishly, “Well, I was helping Derek study but now I have to leave, so I was thinking you could help him.” Before Bitty could protest, he continued, “Okay, great! Bye you two!” And he was gone.  


Bittle stood, unsure exactly what was happening here, and feeling like he left his brain in his stats class. Derek stared at him with widened, brown eyes.  


“For the record,” Derek spoke cautiously, “I didn’t ask Justin to set us up or-“  


“Oh my gosh,” Bitty hadn’t even considered what Derek must be thinking right now, “Neither did I!” feeling helpless, he slid into the open chair across from the other boy, “I’m so sorry for Ran-Justin. I think he’s just, um-“  


“helping you out?” Derek smirked. Bitty let out a laugh.  


“Yeah. I guess.”  


Derek closed his binder and shoved it into his bag. “Well, I think my studying is done for today. We could, go grab some food or something.”  


Bitty lit up, “You’re hungry?”

When Jack walked into the Haus, he couldn’t say the scene before him was surprising, just unexpected. Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster were all piled onto the two person couch, squabbling in excited whispers.  


Jack could’ve asked what was happening, but he didn’t really want to get involved at this point. So he took out his ear phones, left his phone on the coffee table, and moved towards the kitchen to grab a post-run snack.  


That caught their attention.  


“Jack!” “Nonono!” “Wait!”  


Jack paused, about to push open the kitchen door. “What?” He asked, beginning to wonder why he didn’t just go to Starbucks.  


“You can’t go in there!” Holster explained, like it was obvious.  


Jack glanced towards the kitchen. “Any particular reason-?”  


“Yes!” Ransom exclaimed. “Bitty’s in there, making some moves.”  


Jack felt his stomach lurch, and not because he needed a protein shake. “What are you talking about?”  


“Ransom set Bitty up with some guy today, and now they’re flirting in the kitchen,” said Lardo, snickering with Shitty.  


Ransom and Holster looked offended. “Some guy?!” said Ransom.  


“The man in there is named Derek Stuart, and he was number two on my list of potential dates.” Holster defended. “He’s 22 years old.”  


“Solid straight B student.” Chimed Ransom.  


“And a theater production major.” Holster smiled. “So even though he’s not an athlete, he’s still super strong from like, moving sets and stuff.”  


Jack suddenly felt like bolting out the door and doing 5 more miles. But instead he nonchalantly rolled his eyes and said, “You guys are ridiculous. If you need me, I’ll be getting myself some lunch.” He pushed through the kitchen door, ignoring Ransom and Holster’s upset gasps.  


Bitty was deviously smirking at Derek Stuart, leaning over a cherry pie that was steaming, obviously straight from the oven. When Jack walked in Bitty straightened up, and Derek spun to face him on his stool.  


“Jack!” Bittle blurted, feeling like he was just doused in cold water.  


“Hope I’m not interrupting,” normally, Jack took any chance he could to look at Bittle, but for some reason his icy blue eyes stayed glued to Derek Stuart.  


“Of course not,” Bitty picked up a rag from the counter and cleaned off his hands, anxious for something to do, “It’s your Haus, too.”  


“You two are roommates?” Derek asked, trying and failing to meet Jack’s gaze.  


“Yes,” Jack said, the exact moment Bittle said, “No.”  


Derek raised an eyebrow at Bitty, who quickly slapped on a smile.  


“Well, I mean, Jack and I share a Haus not a bedroom.” He explained.  


“We’re right across the hallway from each other,” Jack explained farther, “Just, two steps away.”  


“More like three,” Bittle laughed, slightly off, “strides. Three, long strides.”

Derek turned his attention back to Bitty, desperate to escape the heat of Jack’s stare (which was slowly morphing into a glare). 

“So, Eric, you live in this house with the hockey team?” he asked easily. 

“Not the whole team, but a lot,” Bittle answered, moving his mixing bowl to the sink. “It can get pretty wild, but I love it here.” 

“We love having you here,” said Jack, dragging his eyes off Derek and towards the fridge to hunt for some protein. He pulled open the door.

Bittle’s face melted into a smile. “Thanks, Jack.” Suddenly Formation by Beyonce blast through the kitchen from Bitty’s pocket. He dropped the mixing bowl and fished his phone out of his pocket, “Oh, sorry, it’s my mama. I’ll be right back.” 

When Bitty stepped outside, Jack closed the fridge door, snack momentarily forgotten. “So Derek Stuart. Do you have much experience dating?” 

If Derek had been eating a piece of that delicious smelling cherry pie, he would have choked on it. “I- what?”

“Have you dated much before?” Jack rephrased, the heat behind his words unchanged. 

Derek glanced to the side, and then back at the (frankly, much more muscular) boy. “Uh, frankly, no. I guess not.” 

Jack folded his arms, decided that was stupid, and put his hands on his hips. “But you want to date Eric.” Derek couldn’t tell if that was a question, or a complaint. 

“I, I guess.” He thought that was a safe answer. Judging from the way Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, he’d say it wasn’t. 

Bittle burst back into the kitchen, shoving his phone into his back pocket. “Sorry about that. Anyway, what were we saying?” 

“I was just about to leave,” Derek stood from the stool, and tried not to see Bittle’s face fall. 

“Oh. Well, we’re still on for Classic Tai Saturday afternoon right?” Bittle grinned, as if he and Derek were sharing an inside joke. With a twist in his side, Jack realized they could be. 

“Absolutely,” said Derek with the same enthusiasm. 

“I love Classic Tai,” Jack announced, “I’m sure Shitty and Ransom and the rest of them do, too. We could all go. Together.” 

Bitty and Derek both stared at Jack. 

“Uh, yeah,” Bitty finally said. “We could all go.” 

Jack clasped his hands together. “Great! I’ll make the reservation. Saturday at 3?” 

“4, actually,” said Derek, strained. “I have a dress rehearsal until 3:30.” 

“How sweet,” said Jack, smiling without teeth. 

“Yeah,” Derek said, sounding like he decided something. “Bye, Eric. Today was great.” 

“At least let me give you some pie for the road,” Bittle insisted, grabbed a tupperware from the counter and cut a piece of pie into it. 

Derek took the container gratefully. “Thanks.” He pulled Bittle into a hug, and Jack eyes dropped to the floor. Derek waved and headed outside.

The second the door closed, Bittle spun to Jack. “You love Classic Tai?! I swear to God Jack Zimmerman you can’t name a single dish-“ 

“Yes I can,” Jack countered. “They serve the best rice.” 

Bitty shook his head, but he was smiling, too. “Gotta make sure your team doesn’t break any bones or hearts?” 

Team- hockey. Right. Jack thought to himself. “Right. You caught me, Bittle.”


	4. Ransom's #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No! For this lunch. If Bitty still approves of Derek and wants some alone time, he’ll mention pelicans. That’ll be our cue to bounce. If he thinks the lunch sucks, he’ll say pickle juice. If we don’t approve of Derek, like if he behaves creepily or something, then we start talking about flossing and then we-“

Classic Thai was packed, but Jack had called in a reservation for seven and their table was ready when they arrived. Well, when the six of them arrived, because Derek was going to meet them there after his rehearsal. 

“Bittle, you look great,” Lardo praised, “and not just because I’ve never seen you in suspenders, which look super hot.” 

Bitty almost laughed, “Thanks. It’s not too much?” 

“No!” Shitty, Ransom, Holster, and Lardo replied at once. Jack was too busy thinking about ways he could pull on those suspenders to respond. 

Bittle took a deep breath and took a seat. Everyone else followed suit, but before Jack could sit in the chair to Bitty’s right, Ransom held out a hand. 

“Bro, you gotta save that seat for Derek. Sit across.” 

Jack stiffly pushed back in the seat he had been about to sit in, and walked behind Shitty and Lardo to sit across from Bitty. The Thai place was over decorated, with beautiful paintings of what was probably Thailand covering every inch of the walls. Jack studied the one with the sunset. 

“Jack!” Holster, who was sitting to his left, waved a hand in front of his face. “Were you even listening to our strategy?” 

“For the game?” Jack blinked wondering how he could’ve missed that conversation shift. Everyone at the table groaned, except Holster who flat out rolled his eyes. 

“No! For this lunch. If Bitty still approves of Derek and wants some alone time, he’ll mention pelicans. That’ll be our cue to bounce. If he thinks the lunch sucks, he’ll say pickle juice. If we don’t approve of Derek, like if he behaves creepily or something, then we start talking about flossing and then we-“ 

“Yeah, okay.” Jack said, “Flossing. Got it.” 

Lardo smiled with no teeth, “This will be fun.” 

“Hello, welcome to Classic Thai, what can I get started for you?” A waitress dressed in all black appeared, smiling with her notepad and pen. 

“Oh, we’re still waiting on someone,” Bittle said sweetly, “But thank you.” The waitress nodded and walked towards another table. 

Shitty checked his phone, “Speaking of someone, where is Derek? It’s already 4:10.” 

“Maybe he wanted to shower after rehearsal,” Bitty said, looking up and smiling. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” 

“You should text him.” Lardo smiled, “Like you have been for four days straight.” 

Bittle’s smile grew even larger, as he whipped out his phone. He looked so happy, that Jack wanted to be happy for him. Key word: Wanted. 

“Oh,” Bittle said, “He texted me and his rehearsal is running late. I’m sure he’ll be here when it’s over.” 

Jack knew he shouldn’t say anything, yet his mouth opened and words spilled out. “If he’s even at rehearsal.” 

Bitty’s smile faultered. “What do you mean?” 

Ransom, Holster, Lardo, and Shitty were staring at him like they didn’t understand what he meant either. 

“It’s just,” Jack continued, though he began to internally slap himself, “how much do we really know about this Derek guy anyway?” 

Lardo and Shitty shared a look, while Holster and Ransom’s eyes went from Jack’s to Bittle’s, like they were watching a puck being shot back and forth. Bittle’s eyes were glued to Jack’s. 

“Well, I know he’s sweet, and funny. And I know he cares about me-“

Jack gave a short snort, which he quickly turned into a cough. Nobody missed it. 

Bitty’s eyes narrowed. “Was something funny?” 

“It’s just. . . you’ve talked to him once-“ 

“We’ve texted since Wednesday.” Bitty argued. “We’ve talked about a lot of things.” 

Jack raised his hands, and he knew he was just making everything worse. “I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. You don’t exactly have a lot of experience-“ 

“I’m sorry we can’t all have dated Camilla Collins before,” Bittle said, laying on the sarcasm like sugar on beignets, “This is the first time, in my entire life, that I’m actually going to get experience. Jack, if this makes you uncomfortable-“ 

“I’m not uncomfortable!” Jack said, incredulous, “I’m, frankly, I’m worried. Derek is late-“ 

“Because of rehearsal! You know, I know it’s not hockey practice, but some people actually have other interests!“ 

Jack glanced back at the sunset painting. “I know. Too bad he’s not interested in being on time to commitments.” 

“Okay, why don’t we all stop bashing on Derek, here.” Ransom spoke up, finally. “I’m sure Bittle’s right, and his rehearsal is running late.” 

“We should order drinks,” Lardo suggested with a cheery tone, but it was too late. There was a distinct tension in the air, and Jack hated that he had caused it. Why couldn’t he just be happy for his platonic friend? Why did he have to make everything terrible? 

Shitty tried to get conversation going, but as the minutes ticked away, and the seat next to Bittle remained empty, no one felt like talking. 

5 minutes after their drinks had come out, Bittle flicked through his phone, and then slapped a hand on the table. 

“Well y’all, I guess Jack was right. Derek’s not coming.” Bittle stood up and pushed in his chair. 

“Maybe he’s just running really late!” Ransom said.

Bittle tensed up his shoulders. “According to Derek’s snapchat story, he’s passing a bong around in his dorm. Pickle juice.” He turned around without another word and stormed out of the restaurant. 

The two empty chairs at the table seemed to double the tension. 

Jack put his head in his hand. “I feel awful.” 

“It’s my fault,” lamented Ransom, “I’m the one who set Bittle up with a jerkdick. I can’t believe he was my number two.” 

Holster put a hand on his shoulder, “Bro, now we can go with my number two!” 

This perked Ransom up, but only a little. “Yeah. He can’t be worse than this.” 

Shitty hit his fist against the table. “Knock on fucking wood. I can’t believe this happened to Bits. He’s too good for crap like this.” 

Lardo shook her head. “Holster, your number two better be the best guy ever.” 

Holster smiled, “He’s perfect for Bittle. I’m betting 20 bucks they get engaged before we graduate.” 

Jack somehow felt more awful. 

\------ 

Derek leaned back in his beanbag chair and nodded to his roommate, "I had to stand him up! There's no way I could sit through a lunch with Weird Buff Guy. I'm telling you, they've fucked." 

His roommate, a dark skinned, curly haired acting major, rolled his eyes, "You find a problem with every guy you flirt with. Did you two even hook up?" 

"No! Weird Buff Guy would've killed me. But even then, I could tell he wasn't looking for a, like, casual thing. Bittle definitely defies the hockey stereotype." 

"And you keep the stoner-tech-crew stereotype alive and well," His roommate smiled, and took another hit.


	5. Holster's #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bittle goes out with Holster's #2 (a frat boy, nonetheless)!

Jack sat on the barstools in the kitchen, while Bitty mixed something that smelled like cinnamon and happiness. With a deep breath, Jack began, 

“Bittle, I’m very sorry for the way I acted. I was rude, and there’s no excuse for it.” 

Bitty had his back towards Jack, and he continued mixing. “Don’t apologize. You were right.” 

Jack shook his head, though Bittle couldn’t see him, “No, what I said wasn’t right. I was being a terrible, awful friend. But, I’m going to try really hard to be supportive, the way I know you would be for me.” 

Bitty turned slightly and smiled at that. “Thanks. Honestly, good riddance to him. I personally can’t wait to see who Holster’s mysterious number two is.” 

Jack smiled brightly, while he internally cringed, “Yeah, me too.” 

 

Holster’s number two on the list of Boys Bittle Could Bang (“I’m trying to get some alliteration!”) was named Ben Ortiz: communications major, age 19, approximately 6”0, curly hair, a smile that spread like butter. 

Bittle met him for the first time Monday for lunch. They had a great time. Jack knew that, because that remained all Bitty could talk about for the next four days.   
“He loves to bake!” Bitty gushed to Holster in the locker room. Jack slammed his locker closed. “I mean, it’s like he just automatically understands everything about me! None of our conversations are complicated.”

“I knew you were love him!” Holster beamed. 

“So when are you two going out again?” Ransom asked, grinning from ear to ear as he slipped on a shirt. 

Bitty looked like he’d been hit by cupid’s bow, “We’re meetin’ up right now for coffee. But this Saturday, he asked me to be his date to his frat party.”   
Jack did not want to get involved. At all. Not in the slightest. But he just haaaad to know, “What frat is he in?” 

Bitty, Ransom, and Holster blinked, like they’d forgotten Jack was there. 

“Oh, he’s in Alpha Chi,” said Bitty, the easy, love-struck smile returning to his face, “It’s that three story, orange Haus.” 

Jack nodded, and remained silent. Holster, Ransom, and Bittle eventually left, chatting/laughing/joking away about Perfect Ben and if today’s coffee date counted as a real date (“It does!!!” Ransom and Holster chimed in unison). 

Jack waited until they were gone, and then decided to go for a run. A really long run. 

 

Finally, Saturday night rolled around, and Jack, Shitty, and Lardo were sitting in the living room playing Mario Kart. Well, Jack and Lardo played, while Shitty ate a piece of pie and offered non-helpful advice. 

“I can’t believe you’re in 6th place,” Lardo cackled, eyes glued to her Yoshi car which was in 1st. 

“It’s because I’m usually Yoshi,” Jack glanced at her briefly before paying full attention to his Luigi car. “I’ve never tried Luigi before.” 

“Maybe you should try not to drive off rainbow road,” Shitty suggested, eating another piece of blueberry pie. 

Before Jack could even glare at him, Lardo’s car passed the finish line and she jumped onto the couch. 

“I won!” She threw his arms in the air, “I’d like to thank my parents, God, and Jack, for going to get me a piece of victory pie.” 

Jack set down his remote and went into the kitchen, smiling despite his loss, as Shitty pretended to take paparazzi pictures of Lardo. When Jack got into the kitchen, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. 

“You guys, there’s no pie left. At all.” 

Lardo gasped and sat back down on the couch cushion, while Shitty just grinned. 

“I think Bitty did some baking in Ben’s kitchen. That’s such ‘boyfriend goals’, as the kids say.” 

Jack tried to look uninterested, “Oh, they’re. . . boyfriends?” 

“Yes Jack,” Shitty said, sounding like he knew something Jack didn’t, “They’re boyfriends. Official. Going steady.” 

“That’s great,” Jack said, trying very hard to sound like it was great. “I think I’m going to . . . take a walk. Really quick.” 

Lardo and Shitty exchanged a glance, and Jack was beginning to feel like they were in a secret club he wasn’t a part of.

“Have fun, dude.” Lardo said, standing. “I’m going to hit the hay.” 

“Me too,” said Shitty. “Just don’t stay out too late. And say hi to Bitty for me.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing!” Shitty practically dragged Lardo up the stairs with him, and she called out a quick, “bye Jack!” 

 

Jack left the Haus after grabbed a jacket, but the cool night air felt nice. He didn’t know why Shitty and Lardo thought he would go the Frat party where Bitty was. He wouldn’t. Bittle was happy, and that’s really what Jack wanted. Derek had seemed like a sleaze from the start, but Jack hadn’t met Ben. From what he’d heard, you’d think he was the second coming of Christ- but if he made Bitty happy, that’s all that mattered. That’s all that should matter. 

He suddenly remember his phone was in his back pocket, and decided that some music might make his night stroll a little less mind boggling lonely. He fished it out, but when he clicked the home button, he saw he had three missed calls. From Eric Bittle. 

Jack stopped walking. He held his phone to his ear and pressed play. 

“Heyyyyy Jack! Oh my God. I need to talk. To you. To Jack! Jack! I had sooo much. And it’s so much. Just, so much. I don’t know anyone’s here!” 

Jack felt himself physically being pulled towards the three story orange frat house, but he convinced himself to stay put. After all, that wasn’t Bittle asking for him to come pick him up. That was just Bittle drunk calling him. It was almost equivalent to a butt dial. Besides, Bittle’s been drunk before. He knows his limits. 

He played the second one. 

“It’s me! So, I left. I lefted. I leave. Ben was all muahbluh and I was just, I mean, I just really needed to get out of there! Consent! Shitty- it’s shitty’s thing. Consent. But then we yelled, and I just leave. I left.” 

Jack felt like he was watching an intense movie. He was practically radiating anxiety. Where was Bittle?! Consent?! What the hell- no. Jack couldn’t think anything further until he heard the third message. 

He played the third one. 

And it was just crying. It sounded like someone crying. And his heart dropped to the center of the Earth, because he knew it was Bitty. 

“Fuck,” Jack dialed Bittle’s phone, and tapped his foot against the cement, unable to breath until-

“Jack!” 

“Bittle, where are you?” Jack blurted, almost vibrating with nerves. “Are you okay?” 

There was a sniff. “I’m by the tree. By the tree by the fence.” 

Jack grabbed his hair and pulled. “Bittle, where are you? By the Frat house?” 

“No!” Bitty sounded instantly outraged, “I needed to leave! Oh my God-“ 

“Just- just facetime me or something!” Jack said, starting to truly feel scared. He hated Ben, he just knew it. “Or tell me where you are!” 

“I’m outside,” Bitty drawled, and then there was silence. 

Jack stared at his phone screen that said, call ended, “Shit.” He decided to head for the Frat house, because if he didn’t find Bittle along the way, he was about to kick some communication major ass. He started walking. 

“Jaaaack,” Bittle was sitting on the grass outside the frat house, next to a girl who appeared to be sleeping on a pool floaty. “I left!” 

Jack didn’t say a word, he just helped Bittle up by the armpits, and then wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Bittle babbled the entire way to the Haus, partially drunken nonsense, partially very fiery rant, part crying. 

Jack knew Bitty had been drunk before, but never this. This was too drunk. 

When they finally got into the Haus, Bittle immediately broke away from Jack and plopped stomach down onto the couch.   
“Oh no,” Jack grabbed his shoulders gently and had Bitty sit up, “You need water and food. I would give you pie, but there’s none.”   
Bittle made a face, “I don’t want to.” 

Jack briefly considered waking up someone to help him, but decided against it. He could handle this. It’d probably be easier without the undoubtedly millions of questions they would all ask him. Jack had those questions too, but he knew that first priority was getting Bittle better. 

Jack grabbed water and toast (his specialty) and made Bittle drink and eat at least half, before agreeing they could go upstairs and sleep. 

“Sleep on your side,” he told Bittle. “And I’m leaving ibuprofen and pepto-bismo and sunglasses on your nightstand. And- wait I should refill your water. I will be right back.” 

When Jack got back (with another piece of toast and a full glass of water), Bittle was tangled up in the sheet and looked like he was already sleeping. Jack set down the items on the bed stand and then started to head to his own room. 

“Night Jack,” Bittle mumbled. 

“Goodnight,” Jack said to an empty hallway.


	6. #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ransom and Holster root for their #1 choice

The next morning Bittle came downstairs with a hangover and story from Hell. 

As he sat at the kitchen table, hair still wet from the shower, he explained how Ben’s frat had some crazy jungle juice, and how after more than a few glasses Ben had completely transformed, from handsome boyfriend of the year, to thoughtless jerk who continued to insist that Bittle “was being a bad boyfriend” and “didn’t mean it” when he said no. 

“I can’t believe he would be so disgusting,” Holster said deathly quiet, slightly shaking his head, absolutely furious at himself for ever placing Ben on his stupid list. 

“Bits, you should tell somebody—“ Shitty began, but Bittle just shook his head. 

“I’d rather not think about him ever again,” Bittle said, softly. “But maybe I’ll try to talk to him, and see if I can explain to him why what he did was wrong.” 

“We could help you explain,” Lardo sat down in the last remaining kitchen chair between Jack and Ransom, with the gleam of murderous rage in her eyes. 

Bitty shook his head. “I just don’t want to cause any trouble.” 

“Don’t excuse him, Bits!” Shitty’s coffee grew colder, as he heated up, “That dickshit needs to be in trouble! Thank God you got away before—“ 

“Thank God Jack came, you mean,” Bittle interjected, sounding a little clearer. “I don’t think I want to know what my voicemails sounded like. I couldn’t even think.” 

“What happened when you heard those messages?” Lardo asked Jack, reaching for Shitty’s coffee cup to steal a sip. 

Jack wasn’t looking at Bitty, which is probably why he let the truth slip out so easily, “I—I felt like I was going crazy. All I could think about was Bittle. And I was furious that Ben could let something happen to him—or hurt him,” His fingers squeezed into his palms, “because Bittle deserves to have someone who makes him happy. More than anyone I know.” 

Jack finally raised his eyes to meet Bittle’s soft expression, and in between heart beats, his mind whispered, you said too much, he knows, he knows. 

“Absolutely,” Ransom spoke up, “and I know you might question The List after both of our numbers twos turned out to be the scum of the earth, but—“ 

“No,” Jack said suddenly. All eyes shifted to him. I could have been the memory of Bittle’s voice last night, or the rush of emotion that overcame him at the mention of The List, but maybe it was just the way the morning light from the kitchen window made Bitty’s golden hair angelic, but whatever the reason, the inner Velcro that kept Jack’s feelings inside ripped apart. 

“No,” Jack repeated again, like a man having his Eureka moment, “I don’t want to sit by and watch Bitty—handsome, funny, like, sweetest person in the entire world—Bitty date guys, who, who don’t even realize how amazing he is. Who don’t even realize that he works hard and does everything in life with one hundred and ten percent of his heart. I hate having a crush on someone who keeps settling for boys who he shouldn’t even give the time of day. And whichever man in the world is lucky enough to earn Bittle’s attention—to earn a smile—should not be number two, or number three, or any number on some list! Fuck the list! Why did you two even start with your number two’s anyway?!” 

Ransom and Holster exchanged a quick, shocked, glance, before Ransom spoke up. 

“Because we both had the same guy listed as our number one option.” 

Jack’s nerves were buzzing like a hive, “Who?!” 

“You.” 

Bittle’s chair screeched against the kitchen floor, as he stood and walked towards Jack. 

“Did you really mean everything you just said?” Bitty kept their eye contact, as Jack stood from his own seat. 

“Of course.” Jack couldn’t hear himself think over the rush of complete panic in his ears. 

Bittle looked thoughtful, while Lardo, Shitty, Ransom, and Holster looked like Jack and Bitty were the best movie of all time. 

“As. . . as in, a teammates supporting each other way, or a different kind of way?” 

“A different kind.” Jack felt like a tightrope walker, until Bittle’s face broke into a huge smile, and relief flooded him. 

“Maybe we should go talk a little,” said Bits, taking Jack’s hand into his own. “Because I think we might feel the same different kind of way.” 

Jack let himself be pulled toward the living room, flashing his friends a quick grin. 

“Diiiiiiid we just watch true love happen?” Lardo asked partially joking, partially not. 

“We got our OTP together!” Holster raised a hand, and Ransom slapped it hard, “And with two weeks until the Samwell Annual Spring Banquet to spare! Fuck yes!”   
“Cupid’s got nothing on us,” Ransom beamed. 

“This is the happiest day of my life,” Shitty (probably) pretended to wipe away a tear. 

“Just wait till we see them in correlating suits,” Lardo smirked, while Shitty, Ransom, and Holster died from the sheer cuteness of that mental picture.


End file.
